Nothing Wrong with Fruit Loops
by Gimli2003
Summary: SG-1 comtemplates food-or the commissarys suitable lack thereof. complete
1. Balefull Breakfast

Title/Author: Nothing Wrong with Fruit Loops / by Gimli2003  
  
Season/Spoilers:Season 4/6/7, Window of Opportunity, Homecoming (because Jonas is there, as is Daniel, and  
  
a mention of not liking fruit loops for time-loop-related reasons)  
  
Rating/Content:PG / Mild language (very mild, like the spiciness of green peppers mild)  
  
Category:Humor  
  
Summary:SG-1 contemplates food-or the commissary's suitable lack thereof  
  
Author's Note:Hello all, this is my very first fan-fic, so please be honest and give me feedback. Oh  
  
yes, and I own none of this. The show, and everything associated with it, 0% is owned by  
  
me. Damn lawyers...  
  
Nothing Wrong with Fruit Loops  
  
By Gimli20003  
  
Chapter One: Balefull Breakfast  
  
Jack O'Neill entered the commissary and stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
He had seen some sights in his days, courtesy of time spent in Special Ops in the USAF. Top that off with  
  
exploits gallivanting around the galaxy in the SGC, the Earths best-keep, most invaluable secret. Some of them  
  
were uplifting, some were boring (no no, most of them, MOST of them!); a few were kinda exciting, while others  
  
were downright depressing.  
  
Nothing he had seen in his 45+ years spent dealing with depressing situations, however, could prepare him  
  
for the site that greeting him here, though. The commissary, half full for breakfast now, was normally bustling  
  
with people who were meeting, eating, greeting...err, seating?...no, stupid, forget it, all in that way that said,  
  
"Oh yeah, I definitely hate mornings. How about you?"   
  
Nothing like that cheerful bustle had greeted him on the way down the hall to his favorite room in the SGC  
  
today, though. Ok, 2nd favorite after Carter's lab, admittedly. Such shiny things! Too bad they broke so often.  
  
He had been tempted to see if he had gotten the room right after seeing the subdued, no too light a term, glum,  
  
expressions on all those gathered therein.  
  
None struck the blow home more so than SG-1 plus one Napoleonic Needle-monger, aka. our good ol' Doc.  
  
Frasier. They looked like their favorite pets had all up and croaked at once. Teal'c, ever the stoic,  
  
emotionally unassailable rock of the party, actually looked kinda...sad? And JONAS!?! O'Neill didn't even think  
  
it was possible for the young Kelownan to look that depressed, considering his past encounters with Quinns unusual  
  
brand of optimism/naiveté. Admittedly, his next comment to his teammates as he joined them with a plate full of  
  
food could have been picked better.  
  
"Hey, who died?"  
  
Teal'c simply raised an eyebrow at him. "The SGC's principal chef."  
  
Ahh, damn. Nice comment there, El Jacko.  
  
"Crap, that sucks," he said as he sat down next to Carter and across from his big Jaffa friend. He meant  
  
it, too. He had always liked Cookie. The guy regularly went into his own wages to bring four extra flavors of  
  
Jell-O to his friends in the SGC, where the budget only allowed one. Damn Pentagon bean-counting weenies. "Damn  
  
Pentagon bean-counting weenies."  
  
This did, of course, attract several stares from his friends, most confused, a few, including Sam, he  
  
noted with glee, concerned. Sam was concerned about him. Hmmm, wait. Back up a sec, not right. It was only  
  
after he registered the five sets of eyes on him that he realized he had spoken out loud. Stupid inner-dialogue.  
  
"Sorry, thinking out loud." That got them back to normal. That's right, just me, plain ol' crazy, pay-  
  
no-attention-to-the-nutcase-in-front-of-you-he's-like-this-all-the-time O'Neil. Whew.  
  
"Well, sounds like you've got enough on your mind, Jack, " Daniel opined sagely, deciding to intervene at  
  
this point, since even his CO, so-to-speak, didn't deserve the harsh treatment the canteen was giving them today,  
  
not even after the 'photo-shoot incident.' "I wouldn't recommend adding today's special to that load." He took a  
  
look at O'Neill's plate, anyway. "Oh, too late."  
  
"It that what this is?" Jack decided to prod the nameless sludge in the center of his tray. The fork  
  
stuck in it. When it refused to release his beloved eating implement from its death grip, it became clear that  
  
Cookies health wasn't the only thing in the SGC to go south in the past couple days. Apparently so had the bases  
  
supply of flour and baking soda.  
  
"Let's just say this 'new-recruit'-did I say that right?-isn't fully versed in the proper preparation  
  
procedures of ordinary Terran meals." This earned Jonas another patented 'speak words those big again and I will  
  
staple your mouth shut!' look from O'Neill.  
  
Teal'c, fortunately, summed up the young mans remark rather nicely, and briefly. "This cook is not a good  
  
one. I seriously fear for the health of the warriors of this base if we are continually subjected to this-" he  
  
cast a look at the substances adorning his plate-"treatment." Remarkably, this was the closest anyone in the SGC  
  
could remember in 7 years of seeing their favorite Jaffa neighbor expressing such a considerable degree of disgust  
  
in ANYTHING.  
  
"I know what you mean Teal'c." O'Neill started to struggle against the resilient pile of good. "This  
  
pile of...crap...won't...give me back...my...fork!!" His last word was punctuated by a 'sssppllLLOORRPP' sound  
  
that saw fork and crap pile sail gracefully across the room-  
  
-and land, not so gracefully, on top of a morose Sgt. Siler, whose immediate "EEKK!", Jack reflected, was  
  
well worth the loss of his beloved friend and aide, Mr. Fork. Grinning, SG-1 turned their attention back towards  
  
their own meals.  
  
"So, how's the coffee, at least? I mean, they couldn't screw that up, right?"  
  
Sam's turn to intervene. "I wouldn't sir. Daniel has sworn off coffee for a week after one sip of that  
  
stuff."  
  
"Damn my cultured taste buds and nervous system," their resident linguist grouched.  
  
"Pampered Space Monkey, pampered."  
  
Jackson shrugged with indifference. "Same thing."  
  
"On the plus side, though, we could make a fortune selling this to people to help them get over coffee  
  
addiction. No more budget problems for the SGC, sir."  
  
They heard a sigh from their CMO. "It won't cover the costs of the civil suits brought against us for  
  
allowing a toxic chemical into the general populace."  
  
Sam squinched her eyebrows together, in her 'thinking' mode, before giving a small laugh. "You're right,  
  
Janet, though I wouldn't even call it a chemical. It's more like a mix of...coffee pulp in some unidentifiable  
  
liquid."  
  
"I wouldn't even call it a liquid," Daniel groused, holding his beloved coffee cup upside down for a few  
  
seconds, revealing that the substance also, apparently, defied gravity. Quite the clever chemist, this new chef;  
  
diabolical little bastard, yes, but clever.  
  
Jack was startled out of his contemplating asking Hammond if it was possible to send the new cook to work  
  
for the Goa'uld and, subsequently, wipe them out via food poisoning by a startled sound from Jonas. The young  
  
scientist was eying his plate and, wait...was that smoke?!?  
  
Sam immediately moved from her position boxing in Danny with Janet to examine Jonas' newfound discovery.  
  
A few drops of something were rapidly burning through the flapjacks on the Kelownans plate. The flapjacks, which  
  
now that he looked close enough at his own, were really solid looking, dissolved readily under the assault of this  
  
mystery substance. Dammit, now I'll never be able to eat the SGCs maple syrup again.  
  
Carter looked like she'd just gotten her hands on a new alien gizmo, eyes wide with fascination. "Jonas,  
  
how'd you do that?!"  
  
"I didn't DO anything, it just happened," he moaned, looking sadly at his now desiccated pancakes.  
  
"Jonas, pancakes don't just evaporate into thin air, what'd you put on them?"  
  
"Well..." he took a moment to think, eyes drifting to the small, open-topped container for the maple syrup.  
  
"They were kinda...tough, so I thought some syrup might soften them up." He screwed up his face for a second in  
  
concentration. "Is maple syrup supposed to do that?"  
  
"HELL NO!" Jack half-screamed. Ignoring the looks he was getting from Janet, Daniel and Teal'c, he turned  
  
towards his own stack of pancakes, mentally tuning out Carters rant on the possible chemical structure of one of  
  
his favorite morning foods. Well, I'm glad at least YOU find this interesting, Major he grouched inwardly. He  
  
picked up his knife and turned his frustration into a keen drive to slice and dice the yummy cakes in front of him.  
  
Not surprisingly, he found the pancakes to be somewhat...tougher than he was used to. "Just cut already,  
  
you stupid little, aw screw it!" He took the two round cakes and tossed them into the nearby wall of the  
  
commissary, right above the trashcan, surprised to see them shatter like two pieces of fine china in a shooting  
  
gallery. "Huh, well, that was new."  
  
"Just as DanielJackson will no longer be able to drink coffee, I fear this new chef has also ruined my  
  
thirst for orange juice," Teal'c rumbled in a tone that would send lesser beings fleeing.  
  
"Why Teal'c, what'd he do now?"  
  
"There are...things, floating in it." The big Jaffa cast a baleful eye at his full mug of OJ.  
  
"It's called pulp, Teal'c. It's little pieces of the orange itself, it's actually really good for you."  
  
O'Neill relaxed visibly at this, since he'd taken one small sip of his OJ without looking at it. Thank you, my  
  
lovely Doc. Frasier. Wait, had he just actually thought that?  
  
"I am aware of what pulp is, DoctorFrasier. This is not pulp." He pushed out his cup into the middle of  
  
the table for all to see. Not really wanting to, but having his gaze drawn towards it anyway, kinda like the  
  
morbid sense of fascination one experienced around a train wreck, O'Neill snuck a peak at the OJ-  
  
-and immediately wished he hadn't. "Ohmygod!" Look away, look away O'Neill, before you totally lose it! He took a moment to breath deep, get his stomach under control, pushing his cup out to meet Teal'cs.  
  
"Is it supposed to have those little white things in it," he heard Jonas quip.  
  
"Ohfercryingoutloud, of course it isn't!" This time, he did scream.  
  
A sigh came from Jackson. "Well, this certainly takes the cake as the worst ever meal the SGC has ever  
  
seen." He glanced longingly at his mug. "At least in my experience."  
  
"Carter," O'Neill groaned, "please tell me that his new sadistic chef of ours would have at least let  
  
alone the dry breakfast foods."  
  
"Yes, sir, I don't think he has any reason to go near those."  
  
"Sweet," he mumbled, pushing away from the table. "Fruit loops time."  
  
"Jack, I thought you were never eating those again after the whole three-months-in-the-time-loop thing."  
  
"I'll make an exception for today, Space Monkey." As he strode over to the stocked dry foods cabinet, he  
  
smiled inwardly at what it had taken him to get over his aversion to fruit loops. After today, he would no longer  
  
have a problem with his favorite cereal.  
  
Yep, nothing wrong with fruit loops.  
  
//So, that's it..............you know what goes here, riiiight? Bingo, reviews! Oh, btw, among the   
  
// other things I don't own, count in Fruit Loops too. Just to be sure.  
  
//Next up ludicrous lunch! 


	2. Lethal Lunch

// Told you I'd update this! Yes, I know REAL long time in the making, but school-  
  
// work, and my other fics distracted me. So sorry to make you all wait so long.  
  
// See chapter one for details, if you need to. As usual, none of this is mine, it all belongs  
  
// to Sci-fi and MGM, blah blah blah, you know the drill.  
  
Chapter Two: Lethal Lunch  
  
Jack walked into the commissary again, dragging behind him a very reluctant Daniel. He could understand  
  
why his friend would be hesitant to revisit the place after the events of this morning. It wasn't every day that  
  
your local cafeteria turned into a chemical and biological weapons plant.  
  
"Jack, I really don't think-"  
  
"Can it, Danny-boy. There's no harm in at least looking at what they're serving." 'And in case there is,  
  
you'll be going first.'  
  
Finding the line for their food, or at least the spot where it would be had people been hungry for the  
  
bases prepared meals today, the two of them chose what looked like a safe combination of items for consumption.  
  
They quickly found Teal'c and Jonas at another table. 'Are those two dating or something? I almost never see  
  
them alone anymore.' "Heya fellas. What's up?"  
  
"Jonas Quinn and I were just discussing the prospect of convincing General Hammond to reassign the SGCs  
  
new chef to our weapons research program," Teal'c deadpanned.  
  
"Wow, that's a great idea, guys." Daniel immediately began discussing the ideas that they could implement  
  
with the Kelownan. Fantastic, all that was needed now was for Carter to show up and start talking science stuff  
  
and his head could explode. 'Urge to quash geeks rising.'  
  
"So, Teal'c, what're you eating?" 'Tell me you've tasted this stuff; tell me it's okay. I so don't need  
  
to die of food poisoning right now; it would really ruin my image.'  
  
"I have not yet decided whether to dine in the SGC for the rest of the day, O'Neill. Even were I to still  
  
possess a symbiote, I do not believe it would be wise for me to consume anything concocted here today."  
  
"Did I just hear you right," came a voice from behind Jack. He turned to see his Major and Doc Frasier  
  
approaching. 'Wait a minute, MY major? Hmmm, well, yeah, why not?' "Teal'c, you're not eating ANYTHING?"  
  
"Indeed, DoctorFrasier."  
  
"Well, can't say I blame him," Carter chimed in. "After this mornings food fiasco, who wouldn't?"  
  
They all grunted in agreement. With the infirmary stocked full of Jaffa being monitored in the first full  
  
testing of the new batch of Tretonin, a dozen officers had already been sent home sick today as a direct result of  
  
this mornings culinary insanity. No one on the sick bay staff had the heart to call those few pretenders on their  
  
fibs. The only reason O'Neill hadn't used this excuse was because of their resident mistress of pain, needle-ninja  
  
Janet Frasier.  
  
"So ladies, what manner of torture are *you* indulging in today?" He smiled with far more cheer than he  
  
could muster in the disaster that surely was looming over them even now.  
  
"Just soup and crackers for me, Colonel," Frasier answered.  
  
"I'll be subsisting on Jell-o for today, sir."  
  
"Sam, as your doctor I have to say, that can't be healthy for you."  
  
Five pairs of eyes turned to regard the good doctor skeptically. "Well...I'm just saying...oh, never mind."  
  
Daniel shrugged and took a long swig of his soda as they all turned to their respective meals. O'Neill bit  
  
into his PB&J sandwich with relish, savoring the cool texture and fruity flavor of the jelly mixed in with the  
  
rich taste and thick texture of the peanut butter. His eating delight was interrupted about a minute later as they  
  
heard a very large *BURRRP* from Daniel.  
  
"Wow!" Quinn was wide-eyed.  
  
"Indeed," intoned Teal'c.  
  
"Daniel!" Sam sounded offended.  
  
"What? *burp* Was it really that loud?"  
  
"Yep. Good one, Space-monkey." Jack patted his best friend on the back. 'I'll un-nerdify you yet, Danny.'  
  
"Sir, don't encourage him."  
  
"Carter, we don't tell you how to tinker, you don't us how to belch."  
  
"It doesn't set a good precedent, sir. What kind of impression would off-worlders get of us if they heard  
  
our team diplomat acting this way?"  
  
"An accurate one."  
  
"Only if it were you, Jack. Oh, hold on; big one coming up…" Following this came the biggest of them all:  
  
*BRRRAAAPP*, which knocked him off his feet, onto the commissary floor.  
  
After Teal'c helped their linguist back to his seat, O'Neill took a moment to assess Danny's statement, then  
  
nodded in assent. "Yeah, you're right. Hey, hand over the brew, Danny."  
  
"No, it's my caffeine, get away!" The archaeologist wailed, clutching his mug protectively. He then let out  
  
a defensive *BELCH*, making Jack back up.  
  
"Colonel, as your doctor, I advise you to leave Dr. Jackson to his soda."  
  
"Oh, fine. Carter, give me some Jell-o, then."  
  
She didn't look up from her intense chewing. "Carter?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Something wrong with the Jell-o?"  
  
She spit out the glob of blue snack-food, then picked up her knife and attacked it with a savagery few of  
  
them ever saw, even in combat. Interestingly enough, she didn't seem to be doing a whole hell of a lot with it.   
  
"Carter?"  
  
"This Jell-o is impervious to any sort of physical damage, sir; it's indestructible. IT-JUST-WON'T-CUT-  
  
DAMMIT!" Suddenly she snatched up the glob and threw it full-force into the wall-  
  
-which it rebounded off of to impact Siler firmly in the forehead. "ACH!" they heard him scream, before  
  
falling backwards from the blow.  
  
They all stared at Sam. "Carter?"  
  
"Sorry sir, guess you're rubbing off on me." She grinned sheepishly at him.   
  
Rubbing...on...Carter? 'Ohhhooo *GOD*, must-restrain-active-imagination-in front of-Carter.' He was  
  
distracted from his reverie by a sharp pain in his arm. "OWWW! Damn it Doc, can't you lay of the needles already?"  
  
She gave him a strange look. "Colonel, I left my hypos in the infirmary, as usual. I have no reason to  
  
carry them around with me."  
  
"Well, something just stabbed me in the arm." He looked down to see a fork sticking out of the meat of his  
  
lower left arm. "Daniel..." he growled.  
  
"*Burp* Not me. *Braap*"  
  
"I have no reason to use a utensil at this time, O'Neill."  
  
"Me either," Jonas remarked.  
  
"Carter?"  
  
"Uh, sorry sir, but there's something on the fork," Carter commented.  
  
"I don't care what's on it, just get it out of me, you fork wielding psycho scientist!" He *really* didn't  
  
want to think about where that fork had been recently.   
  
'Carter's mouth, most likely.'   
  
...well, then again-  
  
-*yank*-  
  
-"OWWW!"  
  
"Sorry sir." She was now gazing at the utensil she was holding between two napkined fingers. "Is this  
  
jelly coating it?"  
  
Daniel reached over and swiped some with his finger, which he promptly tasted. "Yep, grape *burrrp*   
  
flavored too."  
  
"This jelly is lubricating the fork so well that friction is virtually eliminated. That would explain why  
  
when I tried to grab my fork after the jelly touched it, it went flying."  
  
O'Neill though for a moment. "Well, *my* sandwich has strawberry flavored jelly." He looked purposefully at  
  
the alien sitting across from him. "Jonas?"  
  
"I'm going to choose this moment to exercise the fourth, Colonel."  
  
"Fifth," Daniel helped.  
  
"Fifth."  
  
"Daniel!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yipes!" Fraiser literally jumped backward from the table.  
  
"Janet, what is it?"  
  
"My soup...it's moving!"  
  
"Moving soup?" O'Neill's skepticism vanished as he looked at her upturned bowl, which was now inching along  
  
towards the edge of the table. Don't see THAT every day.' On closer inspection, there was a small pseudo-pod of  
  
some sort sticking out of the top of the bowl, pulling the thing along. "Shouldn't we try to kill it or something?"   
  
"Jack, it's soup. How do you hurt soup?"  
  
Teal'c, not waiting to hear O'Neill answer the question, picked up a fork and began to stab the soup-thing  
  
while still in its bowl. After the third or fourth strike, the ceramic bowl broke, letting the oozing entity  
  
*sclorp* across the surface of the table. After a moment, it once again started oozing towards the edge of the  
  
table. "Daniel, you're closest."  
  
"I, uh, don't have any *buurrrp* military training. You do it, Jonas."  
  
"I'd really rather not; it reminds me of a slug. I hate slugs, they terrify me."  
  
Docotr Frasier quickly grabbed Sams bowl of Jell-o, dumped it, and slammed the bowl upside down over the  
  
soup-thing, trapping it. For good measure, she stuck several fully loaded napkin dispensers on top of it to keep the  
  
bowl weighed down. "There, we can dispose of it later, I don't think it's going anywhere."  
  
"So, Jonas, you're afraid of *slugs*?!" Jack couldn't help the note of ridicule that crept into his voice.  
  
"When they grow two meters long, drop from the branches of trees onto their prey, and consume the flesh of  
  
the living, then yes Colonel, I'm afraid of slugs."  
  
Okay, maybe he should let Jonas off easy this time. Jack nodded and went back to his PB&J. 'Note to self,  
  
NEVER go near trees on Kelowna.' "Shut up and eat your sandwich, Jonas. And keep the jelly to yourself."  
  
Things went back to normal for a minute till Jack noticed the Kelownan across from him was looking a little  
  
...weirder than usual, eyes wide, jaw fixed at a weird angle. 'Damn it, can't he ever *once* act normal?'  
  
"What is it now, Jonas?"  
  
"Aahh kahhn uttun aye owwtt."  
  
"Jonas, speak English. You've been the living on the stinkin' planet a full year, learn the language  
  
already."  
  
"Colonel!"  
  
"Well, he wouldn't STOP talking the first year he was here. Why's he gotta go cryptic on us now?"  
  
"Ttss maaaa mmttthh."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Mmmtttthhh!" The Kelownan was now shouting, or trying to, while pointing at his jaw. Jack also noticed  
  
that Daniel was struggling with his jacket for some reason. "Daniel, not you too?"  
  
"My jacket, it's stuck on...is that peanut butter?"  
  
"Oh my God." Fraiser visibly paled. "The substances in the sandwich must have formed some sort of powerful  
  
anesthetic, paralyzing his jaw muscles."  
  
O'Neill was pretty sure his eyebrows just went orbital at that. "What?!"  
  
"Actually, I think it's something simpler Janet." 'Oh please Sam, let it be good news. Please let it be  
  
good.' "I think his mouth is glued shut."  
  
"YYYTTTTTHHHHHH!"  
  
"But that's ridiculous, all Jonas has had to eat was a PB&J sandwich, same as the colonel."  
  
'Oh, thank you Carter; my stomach really needed that reminder.' "So, what you're saying is, since I  
  
*swallowed* this stuff, I'm doomed?"  
  
"Well, I don't know...what did you do to your sandwich?"  
  
"Nothing, I got the bread, spread the peanut butter on it, then mixed the jelly in with that-"  
  
"Wait, you *mixed* them?"  
  
'Oh dear God, please tell me this doesn't get worse.' "Yeeeaaahh, sooo..."  
  
"Well sir, it would be my guess that, since you ate the jelly and the peanut butter as one, the peanut  
  
butters cohesive properties nullified the jelly's lubricating ones, letting you finish the sandwich without any ill  
  
effects. Jonas, on the other hand, lost most of his jelly when he bit into his sandwich."  
  
"...So, I'm okay then?"  
  
"Most likely, sir." She smiled at him in assurance.  
  
'Yes, Carter's smiling at me, sweet! Hmm, almost worth having my GI tract forever sealed by super glue.'   
  
"Oh, sweet." '*Thank* you, Mom. I take back everything I said about you for the weird way you prepared my school  
  
lunches.'  
  
"Well, I better get Mr. Quinn here to the infirmary. Colonel, I fully expect to see you too before 1700  
  
hours, just in case. C'mon Jonas." She dragged the reticent alien to his feet. "God, I just hope surgery isn't  
  
required for this."  
  
"SSHHSRREE?!" Quinn now looked absolutely terrified as an insistent Doctor Frasier dragged him from the room.  
  
Jack let out a sigh. 'Oh well, worse fates I could suffer than this I guess.' He stood up from the table,  
  
knee popping in the process.  
  
"Jack, you getting fruit loops, again?" Daniel looked up at his best friend with a curious look in his eyes.  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"Oh nothing, just wondered if you could get me some, too."  
  
"Yeah, I'd like that too, Colonel."  
  
"Myself as well, O'Neill."  
  
"Four orders of fruit loops then, coming right up." Teal'c gave him a sidelong look. "Sorry Teal'c, five?   
  
No, six," Teal'c inclined his head. "Right, six bowls. Be right back." Thank God almighty for Fruit Loops...wonder  
  
where they keep the breakfast trays at this time of day?  
  
// One more chapter after this. It'll take me a while; I want to get this diabolical dinner down just right. As  
  
// always, send me reviews, YOUR GOD DEMANDS IT! Now, as an added bonus, everyone who submits a review gets a  
  
// psychic hug! Those who read and DON'T review will suffer my psychic axe! 


	3. Diabolical Dinner

// FINALLY, I'm finishing this. Whew, after this is done, I can concentrate on less tasking stories. Here it is, the worst dinner anyone  
  
// has ever had to eat, even SG-1.  
  
// See chapter one for details and the like.  
  
// Authors Note: I will now rant uselessly for a few sentences. Why? Because I feel like it! Besides, I'm bored; couldn't you tell?  
  
  
  
Chapter Three: Diabolical Dinner  
  
Jack O'Neill stood at the door to the SGC's commissary, his longtime best friend in galactic misadventure Dr. Daniel Jackson  
  
standing next to him. Coincidently, Danny boy was also the guinea pig for Jacks newest test of the safety of the SGC personnel. "Daniel,  
  
we settled this: you're going first."  
  
As usual, Daniel was being unreasonable. "Jack, I never agreed to a coin toss, and YOU never even called out whether you were  
  
heads or tails. You just flipped the coin, looked at it, and said 'yep, I win.'"  
  
"The tosser is always heads, Daniel, unless they state otherwise. Duh. Now get going." He gave Daniel a shove in the doors  
  
direction, a little surprised when the archaeologist/anthropologist/polyglot so effectively resisted Jacks efforts to force the younger  
  
man through the doorway first. 'Note to self: forbid Teal'c to train Daniel in hand-to-hand anymore.'  
  
"Sir, Daniel, what are you two doing?"  
  
Jack turned to regard his 2IC, Major Sam Carter, as she and Doctor Frasier joined the two men. 'Let's see, how not to make this  
  
sound ridiculously childish...'  
  
"Daniel's refusing a direct order to go before me in the dinner line."  
  
Carter rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of disgust. 'Oh well, I tried.' Doc Frasier, on the other hand, took a more proactive  
  
stance on the situation, crossing her arms and glaring at O'Neill in a way that promised him a needle-riddled death in the near future.  
  
Taking the subtle hint, he let go of Daniel.  
  
"Fine." Jack took a look behind the two majors. "You two seen Teal'c and Jonas anywhere?"  
  
"We are right here, O'Neill." Teal'c voice came from directly behind Jack, causing him to jump.  
  
"Don't DO that Teal'c," he admonished the Jaffa. 'Jeez, how does such a big guy move so silently?' "And you..." he pointed his  
  
finger at the Kelownan next to Teal'c, then motioned into the commissary, "you go first. In there, go. Now."   
  
The alien opened and closed his mouth several times before making a strangling sound that Jack took to mean no. 'Wow, Jonas does  
  
a good imitation of a fish when he's scared.' "Ohfercryinoutloud, come on people! We're SG-1, we don't back down from anything,  
  
certainly not our own commissary." He turned back to Teal'c. "Teal'c. Big, strong, trustworthy, loyal, healthy Teal'c"-  
  
"What is it you wish me to do, O'Neill?" There was a hint of resignation in Teal'c voice.  
  
"Pick up Daniel and toss him into the commissary."  
  
All of them turned as a sound that sounded half like a grunt, half like a scream emanated from Doc Frasier. "This is ridiculous.  
  
Five full-grown adults, two of them military, one a former First Prime, and one who's died half a dozen times, afraid to go into a stupid  
  
room. Why? Because there's food they don't like in there. Well, you all have a nice little party out here, I'm getting something to  
  
eat." And with that, their petite CMO stalked into the commissary.  
  
"You see," Jack pointed at her retreating form "that's all I was asking for."  
  
"Jack, shut up and let's get something to eat." Daniel followed the Doc inside.  
  
The rest of SG-1 followed the two doctors inside, meeting at the line for food, which consisted of six people: them.  
  
"Teal'c, you gonna get something this time?"  
  
"I would rather have my tenlak burned by a Goa'uld fire stick, O'Neill."  
  
Jack turned to Daniel. "Tenlak?"  
  
Daniel blushed at the question, coughed once, then whispered the translation into Jack's ear. "Ooh...I'll take that as a  
  
tentative no," Jack quipped as he selected a few dishes that seemed safe. 'Let's see, nothing can go wrong with a baked potato, right?  
  
Right.' Everyone selected water to drink, except Daniel that is. Addicted to coffee as he was, he tried the tea in lieu of his normal  
  
caffeine dependency. Jack couldn't resist asking a question on the way back to their usual table.  
  
"Daniel, do you even know what goes into that stuff?"  
  
"Of course, Jack; I recognize the smell. It's herbal tea with honey and vanilla extract."  
  
"Really? How...delicate a choice, Danny."  
  
"Jack, I need coffee. When I can't have coffee, I substitute tea instead. I recognize the smell from the special the tea shop  
  
had last time I visited downtown to take in a movie."  
  
Jack adopted a tone of shocked disbelief. "Noooo. You actually do stuff outside of the mountain?"  
  
"Of course! I have a life outside the SGC, you know."  
  
Several eyebrows at the table were raised simultaneously.  
  
"Seriously, I do."  
  
More raised eyebrows.  
  
"Fine, I have a 'living quarters' outside the SGC. Happy?"  
  
Jack would have given one of his usual sarcastic comebacks had he not seen something else at that moment that intrigued him.  
  
Lieutenant Hailey, the blond hobbit-sized genius officer Sam had recruited for the SGC from the Air Force Academy, stalking across the  
  
room with a look that meant business. Jack followed her path with his eyes and saw the terminus (yes, he knew what that word meant) of  
  
her vector (that one meant foot, right?): lieutenant Grogan, laughing and lounging with a couple of other junior officers of SG-4.  
  
"Carter, you're pint-sized protégée is about to start something."  
  
Sam turned in her seat. "Uh-oh. Grogan's in for it."  
  
Jonas craned his neck to see. "Too bad, I always liked him. Reminds me of you, Colonel."  
  
"What are you talking about, he's nothing like-" Jacks next words were stolen from his throat before they could be uttered by  
  
what came next.  
  
Hailey gained a little speed, now in a light jog, and at five feet from Grogan, dived at him. The two fell to the floor, Hailey  
  
sprawled on top of the larger Grogan. He never got out a word of protest, because Hailey immediately began to make out with him. It  
  
seemed no one was more surprised by this than Grogan, by the look of it. Didn't seem to stop him from returning the gesture a moment  
  
later, though.  
  
"Well, that's new," Jack couldn't help but say.  
  
"Lieutenants," Sam yelled at them.  
  
Hailey and Grogan immediately disengaged themselves from one another and stood up, a little shamefacedly. "Sorry, ma'am," they  
  
both said simultaneously.  
  
Sam's expression softened a little. "Maybe the two of you should go someplace else, off-base perhaps, if you want to continue  
  
your previous 'conversation.'"  
  
The two junior officers nodded, then jogged off out of the room.  
  
Quinns face had adopted a confused look. "Is it wrong, what they just did?"  
  
"Yes, Jonas, it is." Jack thought maybe, just this once, he would help the alien out with Earth decorum. Besides, this was the  
  
only type of decorum Jack really knew anything about anyways.  
  
"Oh. So they're not old enough for a relationship?"  
  
"What? No, they're old enough. They couldn't be in the Air Force otherwise."  
  
"Are either of them married?"  
  
"No. Look, you're missing the-"  
  
"A religious law against them seeing each other? A problem with their faiths?"  
  
Daniel, Janet, and Sam were holding back laughs by now and Teal'c had a slight smile on his face. "No, now shut up and listen-"  
  
"Oh, maybe a health issue? One of them has a condition or a disease, maybe?"  
  
"SHUT IT, JONAS!"  
  
The polite alien nearly fell out of his seat at O'Neills outburst. Daniel winced. "Ok, that's one deaf ear. Jack care to move  
  
to the other side and balance things out?"  
  
"Quite, Daniel." Jack turned his attention back to Jonas. "Jonas, those two can't be caught doing...what they were doing  
  
because that sort of thing is forbidden in the military."  
  
"Oh," realization dawned on Quinns face. Then he became confused, again. 'He's like that WAY too much.' "So, how come you guys  
  
weren't brought up on charges those times when you were," the alien searched for the correct word, "involved in such ventures?"  
  
'Did he just call Laira a 'venture?!' Jack sighed in annoyance and frustration. "Because it's only between two military  
  
officers that this is forbidden, Jonas."  
  
'Ah, got it Colonel, thanks."  
  
"My pleasure." 'Darn it, there's not enough sarcasm in the world for that statement.'zJack would have refused to look at Jonas  
  
any further had a loud BANG not come from Jonas' mouth. He whirled his head around just in time to see Quinn going flying backwards off  
  
his chair and impact with a passing Sergeant Siler.  
  
Teal'c and Janet were soon on their feet, helping both men recover from the unexpected effects of...what?  
  
Carter beat Jack to the punch. "Jonas, your pizza did that?"  
  
An unsteady looking Jonas Quinn sat down. "Er...I...uh...I mean...what?"  
  
"Your pizza. That's what you were eating? That's what exploded?"  
  
Quinns eyes refocused on Jacks Major. 'Darnit, I've got to stop thinking about her like that, it's not right. She's right,  
  
though, oh so very right. WE would be even MORE right together. Yep, right like a couple of-wait, has anyone noticed I haven't been  
  
here, mentally speaking, for the past fifteen seconds? No? Good, but I better cut this out anyways. Addiction lies down this road.'  
  
With a serious bit of effort, Jack brought his attention back from scenarios of him, Sam, and no interfering regs to Sam and Jonas  
  
talking about exploding pizza. 'Well, not AS interesting as what I was thinking about, but it'll do.'  
  
"I see," Carter murmured. "So it's only the pepperonis that are explosive."  
  
"Does anyone else hear that ringing?" Quinn was shaking his head, trying to expel some imaginary bells from the inside of his  
  
head. Most of them weren't paying attention, though; this sort of thing had become all too common in the SGC today to be fazed by it.  
  
Speaking of which...  
  
"Jack, what's the matter?"  
  
Jack looked at Daniel. "If Jonas' pizza is exploding, I don't even want to *think* about what will happen if I bite into my  
  
burrito."  
  
The archaeologist nodded in agreement. "Good point. You might wind up vaporizing half the base. No telling what a purple  
  
burrito has inside of it."  
  
'*Purple* burrito?' O'Neill examined the object in his hands. Nope, same color as all burritos. "Daniel, my burrito isn't  
  
purple. Why would you-"  
  
"Gah!" Jackson ducked his head. "Would somebody get rid of that parrot?!"  
  
SG-1 and doc Frasier started staring at Daniel like he had grown two extra heads. After a moment he became aware of their stares.  
  
"What," he asked in that of so innocent way of his. 'Hey, that's MY innocent look he's using! Hmm, wonder what else of mine he's been  
  
using lately.'  
  
"Um, Daniel," Sam starting speaking slowly, like she was addressing a toddler, "there's no parrot in the commissary. And the  
  
colonel's burrito is it's normal color, not purple."  
  
"Are you feeling well, DanielJackson?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I just wish everyone wasn't wearing tye-dye today." He went back to his tea for a moment. Then he  
  
bellowed over his shoulder, "Will somebody turn off that damn rap music?!"  
  
'Okay, ignore your best friend who has currently gone psycho. That's MacKenzie's department. There's a baked potato that needs  
  
eating.' Jack took his knife and cut down the center of the veggie, then took his fork and stabbed deep into the innards of the potato.  
  
Expecting resistance, he pulled to get the thing to split open. Imagine his surprise when his arm, completely without his permission,  
  
went totally overboard and instead knocked his glass of water all over Daniel.  
  
"AAAAHHHH! IT BURNS, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!" The young man started thrashing and lashing about before falling  
  
backwards off his chair. Frasier was at his side in a moment, examining his 'burns.' "Okay, Daniel, it's all right. Let's go down to  
  
the infirmary and get that looked at." Her tone was low, smooth, and soft, almost...motherly? 'It sure smacks of something like that,'  
  
Jack thought.  
  
As they made to leave, Carter asked, "Janet, is he really burned?"  
  
She was quick to answer. "No, the tea is making him...sense things that aren't real. The water's fine. Now, if you'll excuse  
  
us." With that, both doctor disappeared from the room. 'Funny,' Jack thought, 'she seemed in a hurry. Wonder why.'  
  
Teal'c turned to him. "Why did you spill your water on DanielJackson, O'Neill?"  
  
Jack shrugged. "Dunno. I was just using my fork to open up my baked potato when-" Jack suddenly got a good look at his fork, or  
  
rather what was left of it. "Son of a..." The prongs were completely gone; it was like something had dissolved the end of his utensil.  
  
"What the Hell happened to it?"  
  
"Probably the same thing that happened to your knife, sir." Carter pointed to the small lump of metal that once had a dull blade  
  
at one end; now, it was a paperweight.  
  
Out of sheer grim curiosity more than anything else, Jack picked up the fork and slowly drove it into the yellow-white innards of  
  
the baked potato. In a couple of seconds, nothing remained of the stainless steel instrument.  
  
"Amazing," Carter breathed.  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"Well," Jonas thought out loud, "at least it didn't blow up on you Colonel."  
  
"Yeah, lucky me." Jack went through his jumpsuit pockets, looking for a container carrying a durable set of plastic utensils.  
  
"Fortunately, I came prepared." On further experimentation, he found plastic didn't melt in the innards of the potato from Beyond. He  
  
reached for the salt.  
  
"Salt on a baked potato, sir?"  
  
"Baked potatos are boring, Major. It needs this little touch, trust mee-ooucch!"   
  
His potato was on fire! Moments after sprinkling it with salt, the thing had burst into flames, spreading the fire to his  
  
sleeves. Jack started the whole stop-drop-and roll thing that everybody who's been through kindergarden knows, but after fifteen seconds  
  
it still wasn't out! He was about to panic when he felt a cold torrent of wetness engulf him and the heat on his arm dissappate. He  
  
looked up to see a big form holding an empty water jug standing over him. "Thanks Teal'c."  
  
"Of course, O'Neill." The big man helped Jack to his feet. Looking at the now soaked and burnt out remains of his former meal,  
  
Jack felt hunger begin to gnaw at his insides, bringing with it a sense of mounting frustration and, therefore, sarcasm.  
  
"Well, what fun this has been." Jack quipped. "I wonder how we could make it any more interesting?"  
  
"What the Sam Hell is going on in here?!"  
  
'Note to self: must stop inviting wrath of God through witty statements.' Jack turned to see his rotund CO, General George  
  
Hammond charge into the commissary. Astonishment, confusion, and fury arced through his features as he approached the table SG-1 was  
  
sitting at. "Colonel, what's going on here?"  
  
Jack swallowed once, hard. He had only seen Hammond mad like this a few times; none of them were memories he particularly  
  
enjoyed...actually, that wasn't true. There was that one instance in the time loop when he and Teal'c had been doing some golfing  
  
through the Stargate. 'In the middle of my *backswing?! Hehe, yep, I'm still the comeback king.'  
  
"COLONEL!"  
  
"Sir!" Jack jumped off his seat, knocking his knee into the underside of the table in the process. 'OK, owww.'  
  
"Would you mind telling me what exactly is going on in this base?"  
  
Jack didn't miss a beat. "Expeditions to other planets through the Stargate, or as we like to call it in military lingo, deep  
  
space radar telemetry."  
  
Carter held back a laugh at his statement. Any glee Jack might have gotten from that, however, was drained away by the look on  
  
his COs face. "Jack, I'm a hairs breath away from losing it right now. What I've just seen and heard on my way down here is worse than  
  
ANY of the past debacles this base has ever been mired in. I want an explanation, now."  
  
Jack gave a long-suffering sigh. "It's the cook sir."  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"He's a menace, that's what."  
  
Hammond frowned in confusion. "I don't understand, Jack. You're saying the *cook* caused all of this?"  
  
"Yep, exactly."  
  
"He is an evil rivaled only by that of the Goa'uld, GeneralHammond."  
  
"Really, really weird stuff." Jonas picked pieces of explosive pepperoni out of his sandy blonde hair. "Even for Earth dishes."  
  
Carter was up next. "The things that have been coming out of that kitchen, sir...i-it defies the mind how such things can even  
  
be possible. I was working on that Jell-o in my lab with a lithium-argon laser for two hours and I'm telling you, sir, it's impervious  
  
to physical harm."  
  
"So, you're all telling me that the cook is responsible for, among other things," Hammond began counting off on his fingers,  
  
"dozens of officers breaking regs in plain view, sometimes even in the hallways and embarkation room, the waste disposal system being  
  
clogged up by some sort of unidentified super glue, explosions with no identifiable trace of normal chemical munitions material sounding  
  
all over the base, psychotic behavior in a number of people caused by some sort of hallucination, a sticky thirty-eight foot deep hole  
  
being found in the commissary storage closet, a rash of fires breaking out in the crates carrying food supplies for the base, and reports  
  
of a some sort of 'living sludge' now haunting the heating ducts?" Exasperation, annoyance, and disbelief battled for control of the  
  
older mans features. Clearly, he hadn't eaten in the commissary today.  
  
Jack took a moment to tally the score in his head. "Yep, all courtesy of 'biological Ali' in that there kitchen," he indicated  
  
with a wave of his hand.  
  
"I'm sorry, Colonel, but I have trouble believing ANY cook could be that bad."  
  
In answer of his CO's statement, Jack picked up some of the greenish gunk off of Carters' plate and handed it to the General.  
  
Sam's eyes widened, Jonas gaped at Jack's audacity. Teal'c raised an eyebrow. The entire room froze, watching their general, awaiting  
  
his reaction.  
  
With a look that suggested he was a little suspicious but determined to prove Jack wrong on this ridiculous sounding charge,  
  
Hammond took the spoon and swallowed the substance, almost instantaneously choking and gagging on it. "That's it," the general wheezed  
  
between gasps for air, " he's fired. The cook's fired!"  
  
A round of applause the likes of not heard since Apophis' two orbiting motherships went up in flames six years ago swept through  
  
the commissary. Several airmen began to race through the halls of the SGC announcing the good news. Jack was fairly certain he could  
  
hear the rumblings of a round of spontaneous applause break out on the upper levels of the base.  
  
Appearing not to notice the general hullabalo around him, Hammond limped off towards the exit of the commissary. He paused for a  
  
moment in his steps, then turned to Jack. "Colonel, do you know where doctor Frasier is at the moment?"  
  
"Yes sir, she's-"  
  
Carter butted in quickly. "In Daniels quarters, sedating him from the effects of the hallucinogenic tea."  
  
Jack, Teal'c, and Jonas stared curiously at Sam. She turned her 'do as I say or I'll rearrange your leptons' look on all of them  
  
in one quick round-about glare that, somehow, Hammond seemed to miss. "Yessir," Jack added, "that's where they were headed...probably."  
  
Hammond nodded wearily. "Thank you Colonel." Then the older man turned and left. As he left, Jack could have sworn he heard  
  
his boss mutter, "Honestly, you'd think a former Wendy's employee would be a better cook."  
  
The three remaining men turned to Sam. "Well," Jack asked for all of them.  
  
"Janet and Daniel need some time alone, sir," was all she said.  
  
'Enact senior officer voice mode.' "Major..."  
  
"...I think something happened to her because of the pasta."  
  
"Something...like?"  
  
"Something hormonal."  
  
"Major!"  
  
"She had the look of one in a state of skel no mak," Teal'c said.  
  
"Hey, I know what that means," Jonas began. "I think it translates roughly to in heat-oww." The Kelownan jumped slightly. Jack  
  
didn't miss the look Carter flashed him briefly. "-ing ducts...in heating ducts. Yeah, that's it."  
  
"Riiighht. Carter, you could have just said so."  
  
"Really? Hints were strong enough for you, sir?"  
  
"C'mon Carter, you know me; I don't do subtle. In fact I SO don't do it, I don't even know what it is." 'I also don't do smart,  
  
as evidenced by my previous statement.'  
  
Quinn got up from the table. "There's a candy machine two floors up. I'm going to go to it, get my evening meal."  
  
"That one's empty," Carter supplied.  
  
"Okay then, I'll try the one eight floors up."  
  
"Nope, they got that one, too. Carter, I think you, Daniel, and the Doc raided that one particularly early in the day, didn't  
  
you?" The death glare he got from his 2IC was more than enough to confirm his statement.  
  
"...Okaaay, I'll try the one fourteen floors up."  
  
"Also empty," Teal'c supplied.  
  
Quinn gave a heavy sigh. "Well, there's always Dairy Queen."  
  
Carter's eye widened. "Jonas, that's four miles outside of the base and you can't legally drive."  
  
"Major Ferretti owes me a favor, trust me you don't want to know why." With that, he left for sweeter treats.  
  
Not at all surprised that the days meal had yet AGAIN turned psycho (literally in this case), Jack went for plan B: Fruit Loops.  
  
As he got up from the table, he saw Sam open her mouth. "Yeah, I know, Fruit Loops for everyone. Teal'c, your usual ten bowls?"  
  
"Thank you O'Neill, but three will suffice for now."  
  
"Gotcha." He made towards the dry foods storage. He was halfway there when he spotted something odd. "Siler..." The sergeant   
  
was making his way out of the commissary. He had his hand in his coveralls, near a suspicious, box shaped lump. The officer quickened  
  
his pace away from O'Neill. "Sergeant!" There was no doubt in O'Neill's mind now.  
  
Siler took one look over his shoulder at the Colonel, then made a break for the door, cereal box in hand. Jack ran after him.  
  
"Sergeant, get back here with MY FRUIT LOOPS!"  
  
~Finis  
  
// There it is, done. May none of you ever suffer a late dinner fate like this one.  
  
// It begins with an 'r', ends with a 'w', and has 'evie' in the middle. Gimme some of those please, they taste SOOOO good.  
  
// Btw, is a fire stick that thing they use to torture people that makes their eyes and mouth glow? I'm not sure about that detail;  
  
// think can you help me with this? 


End file.
